He set down his fork and cleared his throat. Everyone looked up to meet his eyes. “All right, let’s move on. There’s no reason we can’t have good conversation for the rest of the night, like we were a few minutes ago.”
Relief rippled over the table, and their emcee, Sandra Esposito, gave him a broad smile. “Good idea. Let’s do that.”
Dylan didn’t say another word, but among the rest of them, the conversation picked back up all the way through the dessert course. The menu offered a choice between cheesecake and a cup of seasonal berries. Always up for richness, Tai went for the cheesecake.
“I do not know how you can eat that whole thing,” Claire said with a delicate forkful of berries halfway to her mouth.
“It’s delicious,” Tai said.
“It’s not too much?”
“My favorite desserts are thetoo muchones.”
She laughed. “Noted. My palate can’t take it, but Leslie’s like you. She adores chocolate cake.”
“Mmm.”
Claire laughed, the inside of her lips colored with blueberry juice.
In a few more minutes, Sandra excused herself from their table, and Tai pushed his plate back a few inches.
Claire’s eyebrows rose. “Going somewhere?”
Right. He hadn’t mentioned this part of his role tonight. “Not far.” He nodded toward the stage.
Sandra tugged a wireless mic from its stand, tapped it, and began speaking. The low drone of conversation among tables dropped off to silence. “Good evening, everyone. I hope you’ve enjoyed our meal this evening.”
Applause rippled over the room.
“I’d like to thank our chefs and servers as well as all the staff at this fantastic venue. We’ve been here before on behalf of the Josie Strong Foundation, and I’m sure we’ll be back.”
Another brief round of applause.
“Now it’s time for me to introduce our keynote. If you’ve spent any time getting to know the people who work with this foundation, you’ll recognize him as one of the front-facing fighters who work hard getting the word out about our research, our needs, and the huge importance this foundation has played in improving healthcare accessibility for those with a rare genetic disorder diagnosis. It’s very possible we’d have closed our doors four years ago, but then this person joined our staff. When it counted most, he worked tirelessly to keep us open. He was hugely instrumental in getting us past the ‘barely surviving’ mode we’d been in so long, and these days the Josie Strong Foundation is strong indeed. Now, without further ado, because he’s over here glaring at me for singing his praises…”
The audience laughed. Tai blinked. Had he been glaring at Sandra? Maybe a little. Her introduction was too much.
He looked away from her to Darlene, who was laughing at him, shaking her head, and then to Claire. She was watching him too, but she wasn’t laughing. She studied him as if she’d just seen him for the first time.
“…here to give us our bi-annual update on the Josie Strong Foundation is our Director of Fundraising, Tai Kristiansen.”
While applause came a little louder this time, Tai stood from the table and walked up to take the mic. Countless times this year he’d spoken about the foundation he cared so much about—the research, the money, but most importantly the people. He belonged up here, a face at the front, communicating the mission. In most ways, this report would be like any other. But in one way, it was unique. Tonight Claire Vanderlaan sat a fewdozen feet away, watching him, hearing his passion, and he wondered if he looked to her a little like Ember in her kitchen.
Ten
All night, Claire hadn’t allowed herself to gawk at how ridiculously hot Tai looked in a tuxedo. More than the average lean vampire, Tai was tall and long-limbed, and his tailor knew precisely how to flatter the clean lines of his frame. His fingers were long too, which added a precise strength to his gestures.
She’d told him she would analyze platonically. She told herself the same thing. Then she called herself a liar.
The stage, connection and communication—these things were his element. Claire knew it before he’d finished the first sentence of his speech. She’d known it when Sandra began her introduction and, still seated beside her, Tai’s entire body seemed to hum with anticipating energy. Now he had the microphone, slowly walking the stage to be sure everyone got equal eye contact, an equal connection with what he shared. He broke down statistics and financial data, scientific breakthroughs for specific disorders his foundation had tackled, all in accessible terms filled with his passion. His metallic eyesglinted under the stage lights as he told an individual story of hope and improved health.
Claire looked around the room and found almost everyone equally tuned in, even their table’s resident jerk, Dylan. Then she looked back to the stage, to Tai and his stupidly attractive hands, his smooth baritone voice filling the banquet room.
“So I’d like to conclude by thanking you again, all of you gathered here tonight,” he said. “Your choice to join with us as donors is never taken for granted. I hope you can see from our report tonight how vital you are to so many people. We’re working toward new knowledge and hope, and we can’t do it without each of you. Every dollar, every dime matters to the Josie Strong Foundation. Thank you so much.”
He exited the stage to a round of applause that was louder than mere politeness. He handed off the microphone to Sandra, who stood out of the spotlight at the foot of the stage stairs. Then he returned to his seat.
Claire wanted to tell him he was fantastic. She wanted to ask about his work, how and why he’d chosen it. But none of these things were appropriate conversation while he was still working, and the composed yet intense look in his eyes showed that he’d be in that zone as long as they were here.
